


Irreconcilable Differences

by Guestswithoutbags



Category: South Park
Genre: Don't @ Me, F/M, Genderbend, shit show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guestswithoutbags/pseuds/Guestswithoutbags
Summary: The sequel to The New Girl.Set twenty years into the future, Craig and Tallulah are married with two children. They seem to have it all - fame, fortune and most importantly, family. Unfortunately, life doesn't always work out the way you want it to and tends to take an almighty shit on you when you get too comfortable.Hold on to your weaves, it's going to be a bumpy ride.This is a genderbend fic - the tags are clear. Don't @ me.





	1. Prologue - There's a Storm Coming, Mr Wayne.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've been working on this for a while and my initial plan was to post a beast of a first chapter (how I did with The New Girl) but I think a prologue works much better and I was struggling to link it up with the next bit. The good news is, this is going to motivate me to write the next chapter pronto. The bad news is, the prologue is very short.
> 
> So without further ado, here is the hot mess sequel promise to The New Girl.

**Present day**

 

It happened on a Tuesday.

A regular, run of the mill, boring-as-fuck Tuesday which is quite ironic but not really at all. If she could see the funny side of the situation, maybe Tallulah would remember that song that rimmed on about the benefits of wearing sunscreen, the one that forewarned of such a catastrophic life-changing moment happening on some idle Tuesday.

But she didn't.

In fact, she couldn't think of anything amusingly ironic at all in that moment, because it was the moment her life came crashing down spectacularly. 

On a fucking idle Tuesday.

You would think an unsuspecting trip to the local Whole Foods wouldn't warrant any sort of interest or fuss. It certainly didn't warrant the swarming hoard of paparazzi strategically waiting at the exit for the poor and unexpected Tallulah Tucker.

Come on! Did they really give a shit about the Tucker household's weekly wares?  Were people dying to know which brand of toilet roll they wiped their arses with? Or what brand of OJ they preferred?

Having spent most of her twenties dodging the limelight, Tallulah Tucker was no stranger to the paparazzi. Being married to one of the top NFL players, it sort of came with the territory.

Over the years, she had had her fair share of tacky and completely untrue TMZ headlines; from being anorexic and addicted to pills, to her and Craig's alleged obsession with Scientology. She had also been featured on E's Fashion Police more times than she cared to remember and not always for her impeccable (in her opinion) fashion taste.

However, due to her leading an utterly tedious and inoffensive existence, it seemed that the media had become bored of her. The cameras had eventually tired of following her around, knowing full well that the most interesting thing Tallulah Tucker did was take her beloved Dachshunds out for a walk.

The only time she had to worry about the press was at the annual NFL Honours Awards, where she would be subjected to a red carpet affair, scrutinised beyond her limits and have to smile awkwardly whilst cringing internally and clutching onto Craig's arm for dear life. Of course, there was the odd occasion that herself and Craig would be blinded by a rush of flashing lights on date nights but those were few and far between.

No. This wasn't right. She thought she was past this. She had done her time being hounded by the paps. She had paid her motherfucking dues. So what gives? Why the sudden interest in her? 

Their presence did not bode well for Tallulah who was quite literally blindsided, as she stepped out of the supermarket. Blind being the operative word. She almost died of shock as the streams of flashes obstructed her vision and the deafening questions came flooding in thick and fast. 

No matter how many times this had happened to her, she would never get used to it.

Tallulah's first instinct was to run. Sod the $400 dollars she had just spent in store - the artisan cheese could get to fuck. Every primitive fibre in her was screaming at her to drop the groceries and run. Better yet, thrust the shopping cart into the unsuspecting paps and use it as leeway to get the fuck out of there. Run. Run for the bastard hills.

However, the more sensible part of her, the part that had somehow managed to raise two kids without accidentally killing one of them, was telling her to remain calm. It was probably a slow news week and the tabloids just needed some filler images. Maybe they were doing one of those pieces on 'normal celebrities' - not that she would call herself a celebrity by any means. She was merely a celebrity by proxy.

Everything was going to be fine. She was panicking for nothing.

Tallulah gripped the handle of the shopping cart and tried to make her way across the parking lot to her SUV which was not an easy task by any means. The relentless paps were trying everything in their power to slow her down and prevent her from leaving. If she wasn’t careful, they could easily spin a story on how she assaulted one of them. So she took baby steps, wheeling her trolly as though it was filled with transplant organs instead of pretentious groceries.

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

_"Tallulah, what do you think about the rumours?"_

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

_"Tallulah, have you seen the pictures!?"_

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

_"Is this the first time he's done this?"_

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

_"Are you going to forgive him, Tallulah?"_

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

_"Tallulah - is it true you're getting a divorce?"_

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

Tallulah kept her head down, ignoring all questions that were directed at her. She couldn't really pick out what they were asking her. It was just noise. Loud, obnoxious, shouting over one another, noise. Even if she could hear the questions, she had done this more than enough times to know that you didn't bite. You didn't give them anything, because then they wouldn't be able to print anything. The worst thing you could do is react. Whether that was with your face or your voice - the paps knew how to get a rise out of their victims. The Tuckers had found that out the hard way, and Craig had even served time for assaulting a photographer who had gotten too close and way too personal with a heavily pregnant Tallulah.

It had been quite the scandal and had almost ruined Craig's career. _Almost_.

Fortunately, the Tuckers had got through it and had come out the other side stronger than before. Craig had gone on to have one of the most successful NFL careers ever, and the bad boy image the paps had credited him with, only served the purpose of more endorsements and lucrative deals. If anything, they probably owed half of their vast fortune to the media.

Not that Tallulah would ever admit that.

They were the bain of her life.

She eventually managed to make it to her car and wasted no time in popping the trunk and launching the groceries inside, not caring if any of the fragile items perished under the force. She was semi-conscious of the fact that her phone hadn't stopped vibrating in her purse since she had left the store. It was probably Evelyn wondering where she was. The girl had zero patience, especially when it came to her mother.

_"You're so embarrassing! Why can't I have my own fucking car?!" Her sixteen-year-old daughter had screamed in her face, following a particularly bad argument they had after Tallulah had the audacity to wave at one of Evelyn's male friends._

_"For the last time, you're not having a fucking car and don't fucking swear at me!" Tallulah had retorted.  
_

_Being the over-protective mother that she was, and knowing the statistics of car accidents amongst teenage drivers, like fuck was she going to let Evelyn behind the wheel of her own death trap. It didn't help that Craig had pointed out to Tallulah that she had her own car at sixteen and that their elder son, Axl, had been driving since he was 15. She sometimes wondered whose side her husband was on. But that was the routine they had created for themselves. Good cop, bad cop. And Tallulah had to be the bad cop because Evelyn was daddy’s little girl and could do no wrong in her father’s eyes. The girl could commit genocide and Craig would still find a way to be proud of her._

_Fortunately, Tallulah managed to get her own way, once a classmate’s of Evelyn’s had wrapped a brand new Porsche around a tree, barely escaping with her life. The addition of some prosthetic limbs and a partial facial reconstruction for the poor girl had ensured that Craig had sworn on his life that Evel_ _yn would never step foot behind a wheel as long as she lived._

_Hence why Tallulah had become her daughter’s private chauffeur._

Tallulah reluctantly abandoned her shopping cart in the middle of the lot in favour of seeking refuge inside the vehicle. She was just thinking of the headline they would no doubt print, 'Coffee heiress too important to return own cart', when a question was hurtled her way, causing her to let go of the door handle and fling around wide-eyed and shocked to her core.

**"Tallulah - How do you feel about your husband's affair with Melissa Ryman?"**

It wasn’t the subject that had caught her attention. It was the name. Melissa Ryman. A cheerleader for the San Diego Chargers - her husband’s team. A twenty-something-year-old childless woman who had no stretch marks, no wrinkles, no crow’s feet and the power of youth on her fucking side. A woman who seemed to follow her husband around like a fly on shit. A woman who had sent her husband a picture of her fucking tits and insisted that it was ‘an accident’. A woman who her husband had reassured her time and time again was harmless, that Tallulah was being paranoid for no reason…Yeah fucking right.

So maybe she broke her own code. Maybe she let them get to her. Maybe she let her guard down for a split second…but that was seemingly all they needed.

_*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH**FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH**FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH**FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*_

The image of Tallulah Tucker looking like a deer in headlights would soon be plastered across countless social media platforms, news outlets and magazine covers, and would become the poster child to what critics referred to as 'the divorce of the decade'.

Tallulah would rather refer to the image as 'the end of her fucking life'.  

It was the moment she had first learned about her husband's infidelity.

It was the moment that her life had come crashing down around her.

It was the moment that she would never be able to forget.

And it happened on a Tuesday.


	2. Batten down the hatches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this hot mess.
> 
> I'm also sorry for taking 84 years to post this chapter.

** Past: April 2019 **

“You’re being ridiculous.”

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing Tallulah could have said to her boyfriend mid-argument, particularly when said boyfriend had long since passed the calm stage and was currently raging on the other side of the screen.  But those are the words she chose, because quite frankly, he  _was_ being ridiculous.

“ _I’m_ being ridiculous!?” Craig seethed, gesturing wildly to himself, like he couldn’t believe Tallulah would be referring to him. As though there was an abundance of people to choose from, instead of just the two of them conversing on a fucking webcam. “That’s fucking - yeah…that’s…yeah!  _I’m_ being ridiculous! It’s completely ridiculous for me to be upset over that Aladdin dickhead – who is clearly trying to get into my girlfriend’s pants! Yeah. Fuck me! How dare I!?”

The grainy picture of an irate Craig shook frantically, as he overdramatically waved his hands around. It took all Tallulah’s strength not to burst out laughing – not just at the situation or the way he name-dropped the wrong Disney character, but from the way Craig looked like a shit clubber. All that was missing was some glow sticks and the dance remix of  _Pretty Green Eyes_. She had never seen him so animated.

Tallulah stopped herself from rolling her eyes, even though they were dying to do some backflips inside her sockets. The gesture probably wouldn’t go down too well. Had it been a phone call, they would have been rolling on a river. Alas, they were face-to-face… or erm…screen to screen in actual fact, so she had to keep the sass down to a minimum, lest Craig have a brain aneurysm. If the word ridiculous had triggered him, fuck knows what an eye roll would do. She needed to do some damage control, tame the beast, and above all, correct the Disney reference.

“Okay, first of all, he plays Flynn Rider, not Aladdin –“ She began.

“–Semantics.”

“– _And_ for the last time, Jason is  _GAY_!”

Out of all the people Craig could choose to have a problem with, Craig chose Jason. Jason - the Flynn Rider to her Rapunzel.  Jason, an out and proud gay man who, in his words, ‘was born gay and had never stepped foot inside a closet’. Jason, the man who was currently making it his ambition to try and bang as many of the Disney princes as possible. 

You see, whilst there was a hoard of Disney co-workers that Craig probably  _should_  have been worried about, Jason was so far down the list of threats, it was laughable that Craig had even clocked him. Like, had he mentioned Jordan, the pervy Peter Pan cast member that had tried way too many times to get into her tights, then fair play. Or, that one creepy photographer dude that didn’t understand Tallulah’s blatant hints to kindly fuck off and die, then yeah. He would have been more than justified. But Craig didn’t know about those two. He didn’t know what went on behind the closed cast-member only doors. He only knew what he saw on social media, which was a lot of photos from the parade, goofing around backstage and PG-13 rated party photos. And Tallulah would be fucked if she told him about the  _other_ stuff. Why make him worry? He didn’t need to know about that one Minnie Mouse who blew a Goofy  _AND a_ Pluto in the same night. Even if the amount of ‘doggy style’ jokes that had been passed around had been fucking hilarious. Alerting Craig to the fact that the majority of the Disney performing staff members were incredibly horny teenagers away from home for the first time, wouldn’t have been a smart move on her part. She wasn’t an idiot. 

And yet, Craig picked a problem with Jason.

“Gay my left ballbag!” Craig sneered, “How would you know if he was gay or not?”

This time Tallulah did not hide her eye roll from the beady webcam. Instead, she opted to do loop-de-loops with them motherfuckers in full HD. “Are you fucking serious? What do you mean how do I know?!” 

What the fuck did he want…solid evidence? A cheeky picture of Jason taking it up the shit pipe?

“Just because someone says they’re gay, doesn’t make it tru-”

“-Why the fuck would someone lie about it!?” She had joined in with Craig’s excessive arm movements and was currently flailing around like a disabled pigeon. 

“Tallulah, you’re so fucking naive sometimes. You don’t know what guys are like-“

Tallulah’s eyebrows shot up so fast, it was a miracle they didn’t fly off her forehead, “Oh, really? Go on,  _do_ enlighten me. What  _are_ you like?”

Two could play at this game. You see, because they were living in the fucking Twilight Zone, it seemed perfectly fine for Craig to be tagged in unlimited frat party photos featuring scantily clad (and clearly drunken) girls draped all over him, but Tallulah in full Rapunzel get up with a gay guy in tights politely holding her arm during the daily parade was a step too fucking far.

“I….I didn’t mean it like that!” Craig stammered,  “I just meant the majority of guys…like, you know?!”

Tallulah narrowed her eyes at the screen, “No. I clearly  _do not_ know.”

Craig shook his head, “You know what I mean and don’t try and turn this around!”

“Turn what around? I haven’t done anything wrong!” Tallulah all but shrieked at the screen. 

“Tallulah, how would you like it if there were pictures of random girls all over me?”

Tallulah’s eyes widened comically at the screen. She couldn’t believe it. Was he being fucking serious!? “Are you fucking serious!?” She voiced her thoughts aloud;  “There  _ARE_ pictures of you with random girls all over you!”

Craig pinched his eyebrows together in thought. He was properly taking a trip down memory lane to last week’s toga party involving plenty of skimpily-clad girls, who clearly didn’t know what a fucking toga was  _and_ who must have mistaken Craig for a wall, as plenty of them took to leaning on him.

“We’ve been through this. That was a Baywatch-themed party. I had to be shirtless-“

“-I’m not talking about…” Tallulah stopped dead, “What Baywatch themed party?”

Craig’s face fell, “Did I not tell you about…” he trailed off, “It doesn’t matter,” he said shaking his head, “The point is that it is so disrespectful of you to be hanging around with guys when you have a boyfriend. Do you know how many people have asked me about those photos?!”

Tallulah looked at him like he’d just sprouted another head. She really was in the fucking twilight zone.

“You’re such a hypocrite!” She all but screamed. She was so glad that her roommate, Kate was missing in action. She didn’t need her to be witness to Craig’s dick-ish behaviour. The girl already didn’t like him as it was. 

“Do you hear yourself?” She continued, her voice bordering on shrill. Any moment now there would be a chorus of dogs howling. “So it’s okay for you to go to toga parties, and….and ‘ _Baywatch_ ’”, she viciously gestured bunny ears at the screen, “parties…And….oh yeah! Let’s not forget the ‘ _Magic Mike’_ evening that your football team put on for…” She pretended to think hard, tapping her finger on her chin, “What charity was it for again? Oh yeah! There was no charity, you just did it for shits and giggles!” Tallulah mock laughed and shrugged her shoulders, “So you got, like what? Almost naked, and writhed around for girls’ pleasure and for the fucking fun of it, but  _I_ ,” She gestured wildly, poking herself hard in the chest and regretting it immediately. It hurt like a bitch. Not that she let on that she may have gone too far with her reactions and would be wheezing the night away. She was making a point, god damn it. She could deal with a broken rib, “ _I_  cannot do  _my job_ which is to dress up as a  _fully-clothed,_ fictional character and pose with my fellow colleagues to entertain children and adults alike. Because  _THAT_  is apparently too fucking much for  _you._ ” She finished her rant and was a little bit gutted that she didn’t have a microphone to drop. Had she had an audience, she liked to think she would have been given a standing ovation.

Craig let out an almighty sigh, in what Tallulah hoped was defeat. Unfortunately, because it was her life, instead of a grovelling apology, Craig simply said, “I just don’t get why you can’t see that you’re in the wrong and just, like apologise.” He finished with a shrug and a bewildered look on his face.

Tallulah gaped at the screen, horrified at what had just fallen out of her boyfriend’s mouth. She was mad. Beyond mad. Furious. She was Tamping, fuming, fucking raging. She wanted to snap her MacBook in half and throw it out of the window, and then piss in a cup and throw it on it for good measure.

She had no words. NO WORDS.

Actually, she had a lot of words. A lot of words that started in f and ended in k and another word that started with y and ended with u. Always one for a good swear, she decided to use them.

“Fuck you, Craig.” She spat, feeling the rage burn through her like a thousand suns had set up camp in her chest, along with the broken rib, “Fuck you.”

Craig, being the dick that he was, had the audacity to sneer in her face, “God, you’re so fucking childish.”

If the ‘can’t see you’re wrong and just apologise’ speech hadn’t been enough to tip her over the edge, this insult was finally enough to catapult her off the cliff.

Tallulah took a deep breath, counted to five. She thought about all things considered. Their relationship. The effort on her part to go and see him in Michigan as often as possible. The countless times she had surprised him at his games, following some absolutely expert level problem-solving in terms of work and flights. Had he come to visit her at any point? No. Had he surprised her at work, like so many partners did? No. Had he played Mastermind with work schedules and flight times. No. All he'd done was find problems. Problems with the living quarters she'd been assigned, even though it was essentially just like college dorms; problems with her colleagues; problems with who she became friends with. Come to think about it. The only real problem she saw was him. 

Without really thinking things through because she was furious, she said, as calmly as her body, which was still raging, would allow, “Do me a favour. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. We’re done.”

She didn’t wait to see his reaction, or hear what he had to say. She simply slammed her MacBook closed, threw it onto her bed and picked up her phone, typing out a text as quickly as she could manage with th adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

 **Tallulah:**   _So. I think I just broke up with Craig xxx_

Her roommate’s reply was instantaneous.

 **Kate:**   _What do you mean, you think? Xxx_

Talluah bit her thumb anxiously as she typed out her reply one-handed. The more seconds that past, the more the realisation of what she had just done came crashing down. 

 **Tallulah:**   _Ok. So I definitely just broke up with Craig xxx_

 **Kate:**   _Oh sweety. Are you okay? Xxx_

In between texts with Katie, Tallulah waited on baited breath for the obligatory text from Craig, apologising for what he’d said. When it didn’t arrive, Tallulah grew more anxious. She had bitten her nail right down to the bed and her thumb had begun bleeding. She was about to cave in and send a text to him, apologising, when her phone finally vibrated and the screen lit up with the familiar name, “Craig <3”

Tallulah wiped her thumb on her jeans and grabbed her phone with shaking hands, eager to see what he had to say for himself.

**Craig:** _I want my jacket back._

She had to read the text three times before it registered with her what he had said. Five words. Not the five words she was hoping for, you know, “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” Or “I’m sorry. I love you.” No. Instead, he had said, “I want my jacket back.” What a fucking asshole.

Convincing herself that she had definitely made the right decision, she did the petty thing of waiting ten minutes before replying to him with a simple, and what she hoped would be an infuriating, “K”, before opening her conversation with Katie.

 **Tallulah:**   _I’ll be fine xxx_

** Present Day **

She was sat on the staircase, phone gripped in her hand, knuckles white through the strain, scrolling endlessly, eyes burning a hole through the device, like it was the Holy Grail. In fact, at this point, she’d take to looking at a steaming turd in her hand over what she was actually looking at.

The pictures.

Photographic evidence of ‘the affair’, as the paps had deemed it.

Grainy images of a smiling blonde bombshell, with her arms around her husband’s neck, her lips on her husband’s lips, her husband’s hands on her hips.  _Her husband._

Tallulah didn’t even register the front door opening.

“Mom, what the fuck? You were supposed to pick me up, I had to get a ride with Jenny…” The anger in her daughter’s voice dissipated as she took in the view of her mother, sat like a zombie. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight, “What’s wrong?”

Tallulah tore her eyes away from her phone to look up at her daughter. Her daughter who looked sickeningly like… _him._ Tall, black hair, blue eyes _._ She snapped her eyes back down to her phone and shuddered.

“I went grocery shopping,” Tallulah began, not recognising the sound of her own voice. It sounded robotic, as if it was functioning on autopilot, “It’s still in the car but I picked up that pasta you like.” She rose to her feet, holding the phone loosely in her hand, the other gripping the banister. She was numb. “Julia will fix it for you. I’m…I’m gonna go upstairs, um…yeah…Julia…just ask Julia, I’m sure she won’t mind…”

Evelyn eyed her mom suspiciously, as though she had been replaced with an alien version of herself.

“Mom, is everything okay? You’re freaking me out.”

Tallulah forced herself to finally make eye contact with her daughter and managed a tight lip smile that she hoped would convey a sense of normality.

“Everything’s fine,” She said in a voice which said the exact opposite. She could see from the corner of her eye, the yearly family portraits which aligned the wall leading to the first floor of their house. She couldn’t bring herself to look at them.

“Is Dad okay!?” 

The concern in her daughter’s voice almost caused Tallulah to laugh bitterly. Of course Evelyn’s first response would be to think there was something wrong with her dad. Her  _perfect_ dad.

The mention of  _him_ made bile rise up at the back of Tallulah’s throat. She swallowed it down and returned the forced smile to her face, “Your dad’s fine,” she managed to say without faltering, promptly swallowing again, as she turned towards the stairs.

On the one hand, Tallulah was glad that Evelyn didn’t know. How she didn’t know was beyond her, as teenagers knew  _everything_. Luckily, her daughter attended a private school that didn’t allow the use of cell phones during the school day. The longer she could keep it from her children, the better. Especially Evelyn. She idolised Craig.

Tallulah winced at the image of Craig in her mind. The perfect dad…the perfect husband. What a fucking joke.

You see, on the other hand, Tallulah selfishly wanted Evelyn to know. Wanted her to know that her dad - her hero, was nothing more than a cheating, lying bastard, as most men are. But she couldn’t do that to Evelyn. Her daughter would find out sooner or later just what her dad had done. And Tallulah wouldn’t have to say a word. 

God bless the internet.

“Your thumb’s bleeding.”

Tallulah stopped in her tracks at the voice and turned to look at Evelyn, not registering what she had just said, too lost in her own thoughts, “What?”

Evelyn nodded towards Tallulah’s hand, “Your thumb. It’s bleeding.”

Tallulah looked down to see a small trickle of blood making its way down her hand. She had bitten the nail right down to the bed.

** The Past – April 2019 **

“You know, you’re a lot more fun when you’re single.”

It had taken approximately one day for the news of Tallulah’s newly single status to spread around the Disney camp, and approximately ten minutes for the Peter Pan pervert, Jordan, to make a move on her at the random party she had ended up at.

She had barely even taken her jacket off before he had descended, dodgy pick-up lines in abundance and a seemingly never-ending supply of booze in tow, keeping her cup nicely topped up.

It had been six days since the infamous Skype call, where she had ended her relationship with Craig, and she hadn’t had so much as a passive-aggressive tweet aimed her way. He seemed absolutely fine – if his social media was anything to go by. Pictures of several college parties, semi-naked girls, hot tubs, shots - all the shit she didn’t want to see. And if that wasn’t bad enough, each featured a way too cheery-looking Craig, grinning from ear to ear. He looked happier than she had ever seen him.

The thought of him being happy without her left her feeling hollow. She thought she had been a good girlfriend, and had stupidly convinced herself that, even with the long distance aspect, they had been happy. Together.

 _“Like, he will have definitely cheated on you,”_ her ‘friend’, Sophie had stated in a matter of fact way. She had visited the day after it had happened, in an attempt to cheer Tallulah up, along with Kate, who had looked at the girl like she wanted to kill her. _“Not necessarily. He like, really loved you,”_ Kate had smiled kindly, trying to reassure Tallulah that Craig wasn’t currently knee deep in minge _._ “ _Oh come on!”_ Sophie had scoffed, _“He’s a football player, his girlfriend was on the other side of the country, and have you seen him!? He probably had a different girl every night.”_ Tallulah didn’t have the heart to tell Sophie that cheering people up maybe wasn’t her forte. The girl wasn’t trying to be cruel. She was just merely stating the facts.

The bitter realization that what Sophie said was probably really fucking true did nothing for Tallulah’s mental state. She was already a mess; bursting into tears at really inappropriate moments. It wasn’t until Jason had reminded her on Day 2 of ‘AC’ (After Craig – not air conditioning as Sophie thought) that no one had paid to see a sobbing Rapunzel, that she had pulled herself together. 

But despite putting on a brave face and cheerily waving to the park visitors, she was dying inside.

It had been a really shitty week. 

Back-to-back shifts over 6 days, meant that Tallulah didn’t have the luxury of time to wallow in her own misery. 

She wanted to be able to mope - have an excuse to be the cliché, heartbroken girl, clear out the tear ducts and not leave her bed unless it was absolutely necessary. But above all, she wanted the excuse to devour a whole tub of Ben and Jerry’s without judgment.

But no, her work schedule hadn’t allowed it. The show must and did go on, cheesy grins and all. But now it was Saturday, and she didn’t have work until Monday, so Tallulah did what any other self-respecting heartbroken 18-year-old girl would do. She got shit faced. Illegally. And on Disney property. Had she been caught, she would have been fired. Fortunately, at this point, there were no shits to be given.

“That’s not true. I’ve always been a hoot.” Tallulah replied dryly, eyes drifting around the room, as she took another sip of her drink.

“Is that so?” Jordan leered at her, like she had just made the innuendo to end all innuendos.

“Well, I for one, can’t wait to see your hooters, princess.” The fucker had the gall to wink at her as he took a swig of his own drink.

Why was she still entertaining this dickhead? Oh right, yeah. She was drunk. She had been off her meds for a few months and was still adjusting to life after Prozac. Turns out, it wasn’t all that different. The soft static feeling of not really giving a shit about anything had melted away, leaving her highly attuned to just how frigging annoying people could be. Case in point, Jordan.

Tallulah threw him a tight-lipped smile, akin to throwing a dog a bone, before taking a long drink to avoid having to come up with a witty retort. Not that it needed to be witty. She could have said anything, like, ‘Oh, I’ll certainly show you,’ and he would probably cum in his tights.

“Woah, woah, woah, Rapunzel.” Jordan voiced, easing the cup down away from her mouth. “Easy there. We want you to let down your hair but you know, we don’t wanna have to take you back to your tower so soon.” He smiled gently, prying the cup out of her hands and setting it down on the table.

Tallulah glared at him, “The expression is let your hair down-oh I see what you did there.” She slurred, annoyed with herself for not getting the obvious and so not funny joke, which she had the suspicion he’d been dying to make it all night. “Um, I probably didn’t get it cos’ none of your jokes land…I mean they never…land. Neverland.”

Christ, she was hammered.

Jordan studied her with amused curiosity, raising his hand to gently lift her head up, “You doing okay there, princess?”

Tallulah jerked her head away a bit too fast causing her to lose her balance and go flailing towards the floor. But Jordan was there to catch her because of course he fucking was.

“Wow, you fell hard for me.”

Tallulah threw him a pained look and pushed her hands firmly against his chest to create some much-needed distance between them. Not that it would be enough. He could be in Uzbekistan and it still wouldn’t be far enough.

“Don’t you have some lost boys to find?” She bit back icily, smoothing her dress down where it had ridden up, not wanting Jordan to catch a peek of her knickers.

Jordan laughed a bit too hard at her poor attempt of a joke, reminding everyone in the immediate vicinity just how desperate he was to get into her tights.

“So,” He resumed his terrible attempt at flirting, placing his hand gently on her chin and turning her head to face him. “Your castle or mine?”

Tallulah outwardly cringed jerking her head back for a second time but somehow maintaining her balance, “God, you're so bad at this.”

She wondered how many more princess-related puns she was going to have to endure. If he started talking about what he was packing in his bloomers, she might just have to stab him.

Jordan laughed again, not letting her insult hurt his unyielding confidence, “You wound me, princess,” He sighed, placing his hand over his heart, “But seriously, you know I like you.”

Tallulah cocked an eyebrow at him. Objectively speaking, Jordan was an attractive guy. He kind of reminded her of Kyle. Short, 120lbs soaking wet, friendly boyish face, and completely underwhelming. Yeah objectively speaking, he was okay. She’d probably give him a 6 out of 10…6.5 after alcohol.

“Come on, we can get out of here. My roommate’s out of town,” he cooed, moving dangerously close into her space. The sudden looming caused Tallulah to practically bend in half backward in an attempt to get away from him. She had never been so grateful for being flexible. If she had to crab it out of there, she would.

Before Jordan forced her to do an unwanted death drop to avoid having to kiss him, Tallulah managed to side-step, throwing him completely off guard. She smirked as he stopped himself from toppling forward.

“Thanks for the offer,” she smiled, grabbing her drink and taking a sip, “But I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.”

She quickly shimmied away as fast as her tipsy self would allow, squeezing through the throng of bodies that were swaying to some dance tune she had never heard of. ‘Not today, Satan’, she thought. Not today.

** Present Day **

The resounding click of their bedroom door echoed in the silence that had settled long before Craig’s arrival. Tallulah looked up to see her husband easing himself into the room with great caution, as though he was stepping into a minefield.

It was through this movement alone that she knew it was true.

Had it not been, he would have burst into the room and told her to stop being ridiculous. Told her the press had just got a lucky shot. She knew what they were like, right? Of course, she did. Craig had done time because of them. Because they got too close. _'This is what they did'_ , he would say. _'Their goal is to break up families because happiness doesn't sell stories, Tallulah.'_

Yeah, that’s what he would do if it wasn’t true.

But he hadn’t.

Another familiar click told her he had shut the door behind him.

She waited for him to say something, anything. But he didn't. He just stood there, looking at her like he didn't know what to say.

 _Join the fucking club_ , she thought.

What could he say? Did she even need him to say anything? Of  _course,_  she did! She needed to hear him say it. Needed him to confirm it. They both knew it was true. He'd been unfaithful - that much she knew, at least. But just how unfaithful and how many times he'd been unfaithful were still unconfirmed. And she  _needed_ to know.

She snapped her eyes away from him, to the floor. She couldn't bear to look at him any longer. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her stomach felt like it had left her long ago. She was shaking uncontrollably and didn’t understand why. Why she was so nervous – she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Twenty years they had spent together and now it was like they didn't even know how to speak to each other.

Tallulah thought she knew everything about him. They had shared everything. They had loved and lost together. She had been there for him through the toughest moments of his life. When his team lost at his first Superbowl and he blamed himself, she was there. When he had gone to prison for assault and nearly ruined his career, she was there. When his father had died and he had sobbed uncontrollably in her arms, of course, she was there.

She’d always been there for him, always wanted to be there for him.

But now.

Now she didn’t know what she wanted.

Tallulah had spent that past hour trying to piece everything together. Mentally beating herself up for not seeing the signs. The late night practices, the visits to the gym despite their house having its own, the way he’d take his phone everywhere with him, including going to the bathroom. She had been a fool. A loyal love-struck fool. Maybe the team just needed a bit more practice, she had told herself. Maybe Craig just needed to be around people to encourage him to work out, she had reasoned. Maybe he’s just scrolling through social media, like everyone does when they’re taking a crap, she had mused.

She had never even considered the possibility of an affair. 

It had never crossed her mind. 

She thought that they were happy.

Hadn’t they been happy?

The silence was deafening but Tallulah still couldn’t bring herself to speak up. The more seconds that trickled by simply meant that she still had this life. her life. The one she had spent the past twenty years making. It was like she was in a paper house, and Craig was the gust of wind about to ruin everything.

She was staring at his shoes. His immaculate trainers, the ones he had been given complimentary through one of his sponsorship deals. Because of _course,_ he got sponsorship deals. He was a  _good_ guy. The perfect guy even. A model husband, an award-winning football player, and according to E!, one of the sexiest men alive.

People wanted to be him, and evidently, be  _with_ him.

It was then that the anger set in and although her heart was still beating at an alarming rate and she had to grip onto the chair she was sat for dear life, if anything at least to stop the visible signs of shaking, she was determined to look at him. Look at  _her husband. Her perfect husband._

Her eyes locked with his and they stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. She didn’t know whether or not to be grateful that Craig at least had the decency to show some emotion in his features for once in his life.

Guilt. He looked guilty. Or as guilty as the usually expressionless dick could manage.

“Tallulah… I-“ he began but stopped himself, as though he didn’t know what to follow it with.  He looked away from her and his eyes fell on something in the room. She hoped it was the family photo that resided on her bedside table. A reminder of what he had done to, not just her, but _them._

“It’s not what it looks like. She’s just a friend.” 

“Don’t take me for a fucking retard, Craig.” She snapped, barely waiting for him to finish spouting his cliché bullshit. She deserved better than this. Twenty years she had given him.

Craig swallowed and nodded stiffly. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“I made a mistake.”

 _Well that’s one way of putting it_ , she thought.

Tallulah huffed out a laugh, “A mistake?” She said calmly, like she was seriously considering the possibility that it could have actually been a mistake. Like when you think you don’t need directions and end up in the arse end of nowhere, or when you try and be a bit adventurous and choose a drink you never normally order and fucking hate it on the first sip. A mistake.

She swallowed thickly, willing herself not to cry. She could feel the tension rising up in the back of her throat. The tell-tale pinpricks at the corners of her eyes. God fucking dammit, don't cry. Don't fucking cry.

"And uh-how many times did you make this mistake?" She said, her voice wavering, eyes glistening.

Craig held his tongue against his teeth, looking like he was considering several options. Tallulah wondered which version of events she would be treated to.

"Just once." He finally uttered, leaving it a tad too long for it to be believable.

Tallulah bared her teeth, willing away a sob that was trying to force its way out of her throat.

"HOW MANY TIMES, CRAIG!?

Craig's hands shot up immediately, at the raised volume of Tallulah's voice which had no doubt rang throughout the house, "Shhh, calm down!" he hissed pleadingly and Tallulah knew it was because he was trying to save face. He didn't want Evelyn to hear. Didn't want his title of father of the fucking millennium to be ripped from him. Tallulah would have laughed if she didn't feel like someone had just dropkicked her in the stomach.

“How many times?” She asked, voice a lot lower. Why on earth she was pandering to his requests, she had no idea.

He took his time answering, like he had to think everything through. Do some damage control, as his manager would say.

“A few.”

“A few,” Tallulah repeated, nodding bitterly. She knew what he really meant. Too many to fucking count.

“Did you fuck her?”

Craig didn’t answer her. Just stared and nervously bit his lip, an action he did whenever he was nervous. It was all the confirmation she needed.

She drew in a sharp breath, as what felt like her heart being ripped out throbbed through her chest.

Kissing was one thing. She could have probably lived with kissing. But sex. Sex was...sex. It was the most intimate thing you could do. It took trust and confidence - everything she was quickly losing.

“Where?” She choked out, facial muscles wavering as she struggled to keep it together.

She waited again. Waited too long for him to speak.

“ANSWER ME!”

“Why does it matter?” He replied quickly. Pleadingly.

“BECAUSE IT DOES!” Tallulah yelled, as a tear broke free from her eyes, rolling down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away. Mad at herself for crying in front of him.

She started thinking of all the places it could have happened. Probably some swanky hotel where discretion could be bought for the right price.  It’s not like she knew his whereabouts every minute of the day, and with her frequent trips to New York, he was free to get up to whatever he pleased - her eyes widened in horror as the realisation dawned on her.

“Here?” She asked, voice barely a whisper.

Craig was silent and it spoke volumes.

Tallulah huffed out a disbelieving laugh, “You piece of shit.”

“Tallulah, she means nothing to me-“

“-Did you do it here?” She cut him off and gestured to the bed. Their bed. The bed that they had sex in two nights previously. “Better yet, did you do it in one of our _children’s_ rooms?”

“Tallulah, stop it-“

“Did you cum in her, Craig?” She sneered, “Or did you at least have the decency to wear a fucking condom?”

She already knew the answer to that. Craig had had a vasectomy years ago when it was made clear to them that they shouldn’t have any more children. She highly doubted using protection would have been high up on his list of priorities.

They fell into silence once again. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him. She wanted to know everything. Every tiny, minute detail. She wanted to know what positions they did, where they did it, how it had started. Did they kiss when they fucked? Did they cuddle afterward? Did she stay over?

But above all, she wanted to know…

“Why?”

“Tallulah…”

“I need to know, Craig,” she sniffed. She had long since abandoned any attempt to stop the tears from falling, “Was it because she’s younger than me? Is that it?”

Craig shook his head, “No.”

“Then why?”

“It's not-“ he stopped himself, thinking hard, looking for the right thing to say.

“There isn’t a reason.”

Tallulah’s face fell at his admission. ‘ _No, Tallulah, it’s not because you’re old, or don’t look like you used to_. _I just could. So I did.’_

“Would you have told me, if I hadn’t found out?”

Again, Craig didn’t answer, instead he looked away and bit his lip. Tallulah had learnt to take the reaction as an admission of guilt.

Of course he wouldn’t have told her.

It was at this point, that Tallulah decided she needed to leave. Immediately. She’d given him twenty years of her life already, he didn’t deserve to have one minute more of it. She stood up abruptly and made a beeline for the door.

“Where are you going?” Craig called out to her, instinctively reaching for her arm. “Tallulah – please!”

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” She warned, yanking herself away from him like she’d just been burnt.

“Tallulah, you’re being ridiculous.”

“NO! Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare!” She spat.

Over the years, Tallulah had grown used to Craig turning arguments around. Placing the blame on her. 99% of the time she would allow it and back down, apologise, grovel. Anything for a quiet life.

But not this time.

“Baby, we can fix this. Please.”

Tallulah didn’t dignify him with a response, instead, she grabbed her keys and purse and stormed out of their bedroom, down the twin staircase that, when she really thought about it, was so fucking pretentious.

She didn’t stop, even when her dogs ran up to her, excitement and affection oozing out of them, or when Evelyn came running outside, begging her to tell her what was going on. And she certainly didn’t stop when Craig ran out to the car, trying to prise the door open, banging on her window for her to listen to him.

As she drove away, it occurred to her that throughout the entire exchange, at no point had he said, sorry.

** The Past – April 2019 **

Tallulah awoke to the sound of an obnoxious phone alarm chiming the same tune continuously. It wasn’t her usual alarm, which whilst equally annoying, was also comforting, in the sense that she was accustomed to it. She knew what it meant. It meant that she had to get her ass up out of bed. It meant that it was time to get ready for another ‘magical day’. It meant that she had at least 3 snoozes left until she actually had to haul ass.

This alien alarm, however, meant something completely different. It meant that she was clearly not in her own bed for a start.

Fuck.

Tallulah squeezed her eyes shut, willing her brain to give her a timeline of the previous night’s events. She remembered drinking, dancing, being upset over something - oh fuck.

It all came flooding back to her. A photo of Craig with his arm around a girl. The hurt, the anger, the… easy target.

 _“Wanna get out of here?”_  she had said, storming up to Jordan who was trying his luck on his next victim.

“ _Sure!”_ he had all but choked out in disbelief, and Tallulah had taken his hand defiantly and led him out of the room.

Sex. She had had sex… with a boy. A boy who wasn’t Craig.

She had had sex with Jordan. The Peter Pan pervert.

Bollocks.

This is why she didn’t drink.

Without making a sound, Tallulah looked over at the opposite side of the bed. Horror washed over her as Jordan who was still sleeping soundly came into view. How he was managing that with what sounded like a war siren going off, she had no idea. However, she was glad he wasn’t conscious. She didn’t think she could face having a conversation with him in the light of day, not after the previous night’s events. 

She cringed inwardly, eyes scrunching together as images flashed through her mind of Jordan on top of her, thrusting like his life depended on it whilst shouting die inside statements that she had assumed he had heard in porn. Her favourites included, ‘ _Yeah, you like that? Like me fucking your tight little pussy like that?_ ’ and ‘ _Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my dick?_ ’ To say it hadn’t been a pleasing experience would be an understatement. She needed to drink some bleach to remove the memories. Not that she would be able to reach the bleach… it would be a Christmas miracle if she was able to walk again. She wasn’t underestimating when she said that he was 120lbs soaking wet. He was skinny and bony. Too many bones which stuck out of him and into her, and no, she wasn’t making an innuendo.

If Ariana sang about walking from side to side, Tallulah would have to rap about crawling on all fours. She was pretty sure Jordan had severed her spinal cord…and not in a good way…not that there was a good way to sever one’s spinal cord. But this had to be the worst way. Having a bad fuck with a bony Peter Pan enthusiast.

A sudden movement caused Tallulah to almost fall out of bed in panic, as an arm appeared out of nowhere flailing in the air like a shit python before slamming down in search of the phone. She held her breath, as a very groggy Jordan managed to press snooze on his device before succumbing to sleep once again. 

She realised she had less than ten minutes to buck it the fuck out of there before his alarm would begin its second performance of that morning. And even though Jordan had slept through the first one, who’s to say he wouldn’t wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready for round two of what he referred to as ‘fantastic sex’. Tallulah wanted to pass him a dictionary, so he could look up the definition of fantastic. Best look up sex too, whilst he was at it, as clearly didn’t know what that meant either. 

With as much stealth as she could possibly muster, after being almost paralysed by the ‘fantastic sex’ (his words, not hers), she managed to slink out of the bed, landing softly onto the thin carpet. She gave a cheeky wink to Jesus, silently thanking him for ensuring that her clothes were all within grabbing distance and yanked them on it record time. With one final look at the still sleeping Jordan, Tallulah crept out of the apartment, so quietly, even Scooby Doo would have been impressed.

The walk back to her dorm was as uneventful as she hoped it would be. Luckily, Jordan only lived five minutes away from her building, so the ‘walk of shame’ was short and sweet, and to any passers-by, she just looked like the majority of other sleep-deprived residents, staggering for her morning coffee.

“Kate!?” she called out, as she opened her bedroom door, “I need you to do me a favour. I need you to kill me-“ The words died in her throat as her eyes fell on the figure sat on her bed.

Craig.

He looked like shit. Complete shit. There were bags under his eyes, and his usual perfect hair looked like it hadn’t seen a shower in days. What happened to the boy in the picture that had caused her to fly into a jealous rage and have the worst sex of her short life?

Before she even had chance to spit out a ‘hello’, her roommate, Katie had launched herself off of her bed into her eye line.

“Tallulah! Did you find it?” she asked manically, eyeing Tallulah carefully. Tallulah instantly understood her tone of voice and  _the look_. It was the look your friend used when they try and communicate with you without saying actual words. When they are clearly covering for you and the fact that you spent the previous night fucking the dodgy Peter Pan, because your ex-boyfriend is currently sat on your bed.

“I was just telling Craig that you lost your phone and went to find it!” Kate continued, as if she was reciting lines from a pantomime.

Resisting the urge to chant, “Oh no, I wasn’t!” and thinking on her feet, Tallulah pulled out her phone and said in the same dodgy and clearly acting voice, “Yeah, luckily Sophie had it.”

“Sophie!” Kate said a little too enthusiastically, “I told you she would. I said to Craig, I said, ‘Sophie will have it!’ Didn’t I, Craig?”

Craig smiled politely and nodded. Tallulah noticed he seemed relieved. He probably assumed the worst. He probably thought she was at a gangbang or something. Well ha! The joke was on him. She had diddled just the one penis, thank you very much.

The guilt washed over her in waves, thick and fast as the image of Jordan flitted through her mind.

Regrets. She’d had a few.

An awkward silence filled the room and it was one of those silences that either needed a loud fart to break the tension or an even shitter event happening, like a plane crashing into the room or someone dropping dead.

She was at a loss of what to say. All she could think about was how she must have reeked of sex and how she must have looked. Definitely just-been fucked chic, no doubt about it.

“Well, I’ll just,” Katie began, scrambling for her purse and jacket, “Um, yeah, I’ll leave you to, um, I’ll see you later.” She called out quickly. She signaled a discreet ‘call me’ sign to Tallulah before she shut the door and left the two of them alone.

** The Present **

Stepping out of the doors at JFK Airport, Tallulah quickly made a beeline for the line of bright yellow taxis. She had done her utmost to go incognito, sporting a black ‘I LOVE NY’ baseball cap and oversized black shades which she had speedily purchased at duty-free. Due to her hasty exit from San Diego, she lacked her usual travelling essentials and was still in the clothes she had worn during the previous day’s confrontation. She felt disgusting. She kept her head down as the line gradually grew shorter, afraid that someone would recognise her, if she dared look up. Had she been here for different reasons, she would have gladly taken an Uber. Or even better, gotten her dad to send one of the company cars to pick her up. But she couldn't do that because no one knew she was here. Not Craig, not her kids and certainly not her parents. They would definitely try and talk her out of what she was planning to do.

“Hey, where ya heading?” The friendly driver asked, barely giving her a second glance in his rearview mirror as she clambered in.

“Park Avenue, please,” Tallulah replied confidently, adjusting her cap.

“Anywhere in particular on Park Avenue? It’s a...a big avenue,” the driver chuckled, looking up at her in the mirror.

“Oh um, it’s….it’s…” Tallulah fumbled for her phone, her confidence instantly shattering. It took her a fraction too long to locate the address she had saved in her notes, “97 Park Avenue,” she stammered.

She could feel the eyes of the cab driver lingering on her in the mirror, as it seemed to click in his mind that she was  _someone_. 

She was waiting for the inevitable ‘Hey! Don’t I know you?’ spiel to come spilling out of his mouth. She wouldn't be surprised. It's not like she was super famous or anything but in the last 48 hours, her face, along with her husband's seemed to be plastered everywhere. So she held her breath, waiting for him to squawk in her face about her amazingly talented football-playing husband. It never came though and she sighed with relief when the cab driver simply said, “You got it," before pulling away from the curb.

The rest of the journey was silent which Tallulah was grateful for. The last thing she needed was to make small talk - she certainly wasn’t here to sight-see.

After an excruciatingly long ride, which was due in part to the unavoidable traffic jams, that New York was famous for, they finally arrived at Park Avenue. Well, 97 Park Avenue to be exact.

Tallulah handed the driver cash, tipping generously – a silent thank you for his discretion. She didn’t miss the wink he gave her as he began counting the bills. With a small smile, Tallulah pushed the door open and stepped out on to the bustling sidewalk.

The building was just as grand as she imagined. Set against the concrete jungle of the rest of New York, the floor to ceiling windows gleamed in the sunlight. The building’s sign was simple and elegant. Gold font etched into marble. Her eyes crinkled in the corners as she read the name and smiled. Broflofski & Channing.

The reception desk was at the far end of the pretentious foyer which included an immaculate marble floor, black leather sofas and several fancy water coolers that had bits of cucumber floating in. Tallulah did not miss the looks several smartly dressed businessmen through her way as she walked quickly to the desk. It was at this point that she really regretted the ‘I LOVE NY’ cap.

“Good morning, how can I help you?” The receptionist smiled politely in Tallulah’s directions, not stopping what she was typing out on her computer.

“Hi, um, I’d like to book an appointment to see Kyle Broflovski, please.” Tallulah said in a low voice.

The woman stopped typing and looked up at her, taking in her appearance. Her eyes lingered on the baseball cap and Tallulah didn’t miss the flitter of annoyance that graced her face.

“I’m sorry but Mr Broflovski is fully booked for the foreseeable future. If you would like, I can book a consultation with one of his associates?” She turned back to her keyboard and resumed typing, as if she had done this a thousand times. She probably had.

Kyle had become one of the most successful lawyers in the country. He had handled dozens of high profile cases and was somewhat of a celebrity himself. The bitch probably thought Tallulah was trying to get an autograph or something, after all, her appearance did scream ‘which way to Times Square?!’

Tallulah bit her lip, “I see, um. Is there a way I can at least leave him a message?”

The receptionist sighed heavily and rolled her eyes in annoyance and Tallulah was taken aback by her sudden rudeness.

“Like I said before, Mr Broflovski is fully booked. If you would like to book a consultation with one of the other _many_ lawyers that we have here, I would be happy to do that for you.” She spat, voice painfully icy.

Tallulah threw her a fake smile, “Fine. That would be great.”

The receptionist tore her eyes back to her screen sighing. “Okay let me see. We have an opening tomorrow at 2pm. I can’t tell you who it’ll be with though.”

“Great,” Tallulah replied sarcastically.

“Okay,” the receptionist swiveled the wireless mouse around, clicking a few buttons. “What's your name?”

“Tallulah Tucker.”

The receptionist’s hand froze above her keyboard and Tallulah wouldn’t be surprised if she had given herself whiplash at the speed in which she looked up at her. But like  _really_ looked at her.

Her eyes widened in horror as she realised who Tallulah was. Even with the dodgy shades and hat, if you really looked at her carefully, you would know.

Tallulah could see the wheels turning in the poor woman’s head - she was doing some quick maths. The story was everywhere: Tallulah and Craig Tucker on the rocks, and now Tallulah Tucker was standing in the foyer of one of the top law firms in the country. It didn't take a genius to crack the case. “Mrs…Mrs Tucker,” the receptionist’s whole demeanour did a 180 and she started acting as if the Queen was in her presence.

Tallulah snorted, shaking her head, “It’s fine.”

“Hang on,” the receptionist blushed, lifting a finger to her. She swiftly picked up the phone, dialing a sequence of numbers rapidly and had barely put the receiver to her ear before she spoke, “Mr Broflovski? Apologies to disturb you but I have Tallulah Tucker here to see you.” The receptionist paused, clearly listening intently to the instructions she was being given, “Right away, sir.” She spoke, placing the receiver back down. “You can go straight up, 27th Floor,” she smiled warmly at Tallulah, handing her a key card for the elevator.

“Thank you,” Tallulah smiled back gratefully. Despite the customer service or lack of in this experience, Tallulah still wanted to make a good impression. She had a feeling, she'd be spending a lot of time here.

The elevator was as extravagant as the foyer and with every floor, Tallulah regretted not sorting out her appearance all the more.

This would be the first time she was going to see Kyle since they were 18. Twenty years had passed since then. Twenty fucking years.

Tallulah hadn't made it to their ten-year high school reunion. She had been pregnant at the time and was told she couldn't travel. Not after what had happened with Evelyn. So she stayed at home, alone.

It hadn’t mattered though. They had still lost the baby.

A pleasant chiming sound told her she had arrived at the 27th floor and the doors slid open smoothly, revealing another fancy reception, albeit on a much smaller scale. A pretty blonde girl sat behind a desk, and unlike Frosty McFrosty-son on the ground floor, the girl just oozed friendliness.

“Mrs Tucker!" She squealed with delight, not even waiting for Tallulah to step out of the elevator. "Please take a seat. Mr Broflovski will be right with you,” she beamed, gesturing to some more expensive sofas. 

Tallulah’s butt cheeks had barely made contact with the leather when the girl called out to her again.

“Can I get you a drink, Mrs Tucker? Coffee, tea, water, champagne?” She asked with an enthusiasm that only cocaine would supply. Tallulah wanted to ask her for a line instead but wisely settled on coffee, not wanting to give out the wrong impression. A lot of people didn't understand her humour and she wouldn't have at all been surprised if a dish of the finest drugs had been thrust under her nose by the overzealous receptionist.

“Latte? Cappuccino? Flat white? Macchiato?” The receptionist started reeling off the options and Tallulah had to check her surroundings, to make sure she was still in a law firm and hadn’t wandered into one of her coffee stores, like a beacon had called her home.

“A flat white would be great,” Tallulah cut her off politely.

The girl positively beamed at her again and shot up to make her drink, leaving Tallulah alone on the swanky sofa.

It wasn't too long before she heard a door opening and the sound of a man talking and a woman giggling. She lifted her head to see who it was and her jaw almost hit the floor.

A Victoria's Secret model. But not just any Victoria's Secret model. THE Victoria's Secret model. 

Daisy Dubinski.

With an aspiring model as a daughter, Tallulah knew practically everything about Daisy. She was 5 feet 10 inches tall, a Pisces, had a pomeranian call Monty and had dated several A-list celebrities. Evelyn idolised her. 

Tallulah’s hand instinctively went for her phone until she remembered, that apart from an, 'I'm ok xxx' text she had sent to her kids, she hadn't had any contact with her family since she had stormed out of their home. Sending her daughter what would no doubt be a blurry photo of her idol, after going MIA for a day, probably wouldn't go down too well. Not least, as there were practically 100s of messages that she hadn't even read, much less replied to. But that still didn't stop Tallulah from gawking at the woman as she strutted past in sky-high heels, long luscious brown hair cascading down her back, and wearing the shortest dress Tallulah had ever seen. Not that Daisy couldn't pull it off, quite the contrary - she was absolutely stunning.

She was one of those women that made you feel instantly shit about your own existence. Tallulah felt like a fucking goblin in comparison; sat on the expensive sofa, looking completely out of place in two-day old clothes and an 'I LOVE NY' hat. She must have looked fucking mental. Daisy shot her a tight-lipped smile, as she sauntered past, most definitely out of a nervous politeness. It wasn't until someone coughed loudly that Tallulah broke out of her trance.

She whipped her head in the direction of the sound and her eyes widened at the sight before her.

Kyle.

**The Past - April 2019**

"I'm sorry."

Even though she knew she deserved an apology, Tallulah couldn’t quite believe that she was actually getting one. Craig never apologised.

"I was a dick." He continued, looking at her like a kicked puppy. A lock of his greasy hair fell in front of his face and he nervously tucked it behind his ear and bit his lip, waiting for her reply.

Nervous. He was actually nervous.

Tallulah was flabbergasted. She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, certainly not in her room, and definitely not the morning after she had slept with somebody else. It was like God had shat on her on purpose and had invited Jesus over to watch it unfold with some popcorn.

"Okay." She said. Because…what else could she say?

"I don't want to lose you, Tallulah."

There was a tornado of emotions running through her: relief, guilt, anxiety. Relief that Craig was here. That he was sorry. That he still wanted her to be his girlfriend. Guilt for doubting him. For believing her friends. For sleeping with someone else.

However, the main emotion she was feeling was anxiety. She was anxious that he was going to discover what she had done. That he wouldn’t forgive her. That it would be her that ultimately ruined them.

She wasn’t going to let that happen. She decided then and there. He wouldn’t find out. She would make sure of it. Even if she had to threaten violence in return for silence. He would never know. Plus, to quote Ross Gellar, they had been on a mother-fucking break. She hadn’t been his girlfriend at the time she had decided to take a flight on Pan Am. Technically, she hadn’t done anything wrong, so she shouldn’t feel guilty.

“You won’t lose me but you have to start trusting me,” she replied, concealing the shudder that ran through her at the word trusting.

How ironic.

Craig nodded, "I know."

"You have nothing to worry about,” she reassured him convincingly, willing the images of Jordan to get the fuck out of her head.

"I know. I just get..." He trailed off, blushing.

"Jealous?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"But you have nothing to worry about?" Craig queried, his brows furrowing in confusion, like it was absolutely absurd for her to even contemplate being jealous.

"Craig, ninety percent of the photos of you online have some girl all over you,” she laughed.

"But I'd _never_ cheat on you." Craig said, looking up at her in earnest.

"I know. I trust you."

Craig shot her a small smile, "So... are we good?"

"Yeah,” Tallulah smiled back.

"Come here,” he motioned her towards him. Towards the bed.

Oh no. She needed a shower before round two of actual fantastic sex.

"Craig, I'm disgusting,” she said, gesturing to herself and the outfit from last night that she was still wearing.

"Me too." He shrugged.

"I haven't brushed my teeth or-"

"-I don't care." He cut her off impatiently.

Tallulah hesitated. Would he know? Would he be able to smell the sex on her? Would she still be wet from last night’s encounter?

She couldn’t risk it.

“How about we shower together first?” she smirked, knowing that Craig wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Okay,” he grinned, getting up off the bed. He walked over to her and scooped her up in his arms, capturing her lips with his own. Tallulah wrapped her legs around his waist and let him hold her up. It had been way too long since they had done this. Tallulah melted into his embrace. Smelling of sex be damned. She had missed this. Had missed him. They kissed deep and slow and it wasn’t long before Tallulah felt the hard pressure of Craig’s hardened dick pushing into her thigh.

She pulled off the kiss to look at him and grinned.

“So I take it, you _don’t_ want your jacket back?”

** The Present **

Kyle.

She recognised him immediately even though he was older. What a fucking idiotic thing to think. Of course he was older, what was she expecting? The same 18-year-old boy whose heart she had broken? Trapped in infinite youth like Dorian fucking Gray?

His hair was shorter but he still had plenty of it. It was no longer curly and Tallulah suspected that he had probably gotten it chemically straightened. It was super short at the sides and long on top, which he had slicked back with some sort of product. He was rocking just the right amount of stubble which actually really suited him, and Tallulah was impressed with how much he had grown into his features, as well as in general. He was actually taller than her – not massively so but certainly an improvement. His expensive suit fit him like a glove and it would have been obvious to anyone who had eyes that he worked out. There was no doubt about it, he was definitely a man. In short, he looked fucking good.

“Hi,” he said, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Hi,” she replied nervously, realising that she had been gawking again.

“Should we?” he gestured into his office and Tallulah followed obediently. He nodded to a seat which she took and watched as he opted to lean against his desk, instead of sitting at the designated and expensive-looking chair.

He folded his arms in front of him and cocked his head at her, as though he was studying her.

Tallulah really wished she wasn’t wearing two-day old clothes and an ‘I LOVE NY’ hat for their long overdue reunion. It was a very bold statement to make. She didn’t love New York at all. Quite frankly, she was indifferent to it. She could take it or leave it. Luckily, she had the good sense to take the oversized shades off.

“So how do you know Daisy Dubinski?” She blurted out, immediately breaking the twenty-year-old tension that was hanging above them.

"She's... a friend," Kyle smirked in a way that told Tallulah she was more than ‘a friend’.

Tallulah nodded, not really knowing what to follow it up with. She thought, ‘ _You fucking, then?_ ’ wouldn’t be an appropriate comment to make. She scanned her brain for something to say, as Kyle continued to watch her.

Luckily, coked-up Sue from the front desk decided to make an appearance with Tallulah’s flat white, and she had to hand it to the girl, not a drop had been spilt despite the speed at which she moved. She practically threw it at Tallulah like it was a frisby.

“Thank you,” Tallulah said, scrambling to save the beverage.

“No problem, let me know if I can get you anything else! Would you like anything, sir?!” She asked Kyle in the same manic way she had greeted Tallulah.

“No, thank you, Louey. That will be all.”

“OKAY!” ‘Louey’ grinned again and skipped out of the office, accidentally slamming the door behind her.

“Well…she seems…nice?” Tallulah offered, not wanting the hideous tension to return.

“So what can I do for you, Tweek?" Kyle smiled, still leaning against his expensive polished oak desk.

Tallulah smiled at the name. It had been a while since anyone other than Marj had called her that.

“Do you remember what I said to you when we were 18?"

"It's not you, it's me?" Kyle questioned immediately with an air of arrogance. It was as though he was trying to one-up her. He clearly knew why she was there, and all the polished oak desks and flat-whites and Victoria Secret models simply served as a reminder that Kyle had a fucking good life. He was clearly happy with it and he hadn’t needed Tallulah to get it. Whereas Tallulah’s life was falling apart at the seams. And he _knew it._

"A part from that.” She said, smiling sheepishly. She felt small. Smaller than she was, and she was really fucking small. She didn’t need anyone to remind her that her life was shit.

"I don't know, Tallulah. You said a lot of things." He stated in a bored tone, as if she had been boring when they were kids. As if he hadn’t hung on her every goddamn word.

Maybe she had made a mistake coming here.

"You. You promised me something," she stammered, pausing to lick her lips which were incredibly dry. Why she was nervous in front of Kyle Broflovski, she didn’t know. But this wasn’t the Kyle she remembered. This was Kyle 2.0. The sexy, big shot lawyer who fucked Victoria Secret models, and polished oak desks in his spare time.

"Do you remember?"

Kyle mimicked her action and licked his lips, the smirk seeped back onto his face, “I might do.”

He clearly remembered.

Tallulah took a sip of her flat white, pretending she wasn’t as nervous as she was. Unfortunately, the clatter of the cup against the saucer fractured any illusion that Tallulah had confidence. “Well, I hope it still stands.”

Kyle grinned wickedly, watching her movements with great interest, “And why’s that?”

Tallulah took another sip, savouring the last few seconds of the life she had built for herself since she was 17 years old. The words she was about to say out loud would change everything forever.

“Because,” she started, pausing to look up at Kyle who was staring at her as though she was prey. She swallowed hard.

“I need a divorce.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can follow me on Tumblr - I'm @GuestsWithoutBags
> 
> Just a wee note: the chapters won’t all be like this. There will be several flash backs in one chapter. This was just so you could see the relationship dynamic. And to set the scene god damn it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @Guestswithoutbags on Tumblr for those of you who would like to chat :)


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